


Dire circumstances

by Hbsj



Series: Four Wizards series [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, BAMF Ginny Weasley, Complete, Drama & Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Good Blaise Zabini, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Humor, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Not Epilogue Compliant, POV Alternating, POV Blaise Zabini, POV Ginny Weasley, Post-Hogwarts, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Discovery, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:07:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23156071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hbsj/pseuds/Hbsj
Summary: Ginny made many seriously bad decisions over the years, leaving her a battered shell of herself and on the outs with many of her former friends. Blaise is a charming playboy bored with both work and women. Can Blaise help her back to her life, independence and especially her magic? M-rating and trigger warnings inside. Companion fic to Drastic measures and Excessive situations.
Relationships: Arthur Weasley/Molly Weasley, Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Neville Longbottom/Theodore Nott
Series: Four Wizards series [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/988845
Comments: 9
Kudos: 32





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a companion fic to Drastic measures and Excessive situations. There will be four fics in total and each fic follows one of the four wizards, Draco Malfoy, Theo Nott, Harry Potter and Blaise Zabini.  
> This is a darker take on this little AU I’ve created. The Draco/Hermione was very stripper-smutty, the Theo/Neville was on the fluffy-smutty side. I have no plans of expanding this AU other than four fics.  
> Warnings: M-rating for a reason, language and smut.  
> Trigger warning! For violence, mentions and flashes of non-con (you have been warned).  
> This is Blaise’s story and it’s fully written. I will update it every Sunday for the coming weeks. Also, the smut won’t appear in the first or the second chapter, just so you know.  
> This is my very first foray into a fic with both angsty and darker themes, so please let me know what you think!  
> I own nothing but the plot unfortunately. All hail the mighty J.K.  
> HBSJ

She was huddled alone in her old room, hugging her knees tightly to her body as the sobs wracked through her battered and bruised body. Her mum was shouting that dinner was ready and a few of her brothers were coming too so they could leave together for the ball, but she just couldn't get up and she wasn't even sure if she wanted to get up.

It just hurt so bad.

However good she'd been treated at first, it always spiralled out of control somehow. Maybe she really was a harpy? She'd been told that many many times. A lot of people had also called her a gold-digger and a two-galleon whore. But she wasn't. She'd just made mistakes.

A _lot_ of mistakes.

She could hear knocking on the door and George's voice filtered through her quiet sobs. "Gin? Mum says dinners ready before we go to Hermione's party, are you coming?" He sounded like he wasn't focusing on getting her to dinner. He was probably thinking about inventing yet another thing for the shop.

She gulped as quietly as she could, trying desperately to pull herself together and succeeding somewhat. "Uhm, yeah, just give me a sec, I'll be right down." Her voice almost broke on the last word but she kept it at bay.

"Alright then, see you in a bit." His footsteps receded down the stairs and she slowly got up.

Wiping her eyes furiously, she walked to her mirror. She looked like a punching bag with runny makeup. There were vicious bite-marks on her shoulders, nail-scrapes down her chest, red bruises on her stomach and back that hadn't even turned blue yet, intermingled with the older blue and yellow bruises. Marcus had always been very diligent about avoiding her face and just attacked her body that much more ferociously.

She sighed and reached for her wand, starting the very familiar process of glamouring all of the marks on her. At least she could still do that. She needed to be able to cast the glamour.

Her family wasn't to know. They could _never_ know any of it.

* * *

Blaise Zabini was starting to get bored. Even of women.

And he never thought that would ever happen to him.

Go fucking figure.

He sat in the corner of a completely full ballroom, not giving a shite about anything but the firewhiskey in his hand. It was getting late but the party was still in full swing. He was extremely well-dressed. As he always was at formal functions.

It was so fucking boring.

Out on the dancefloor he could see Potter snogging some random witch, Draco and Granger were dancing and had eyes for none but each other and Theo had already left with his Gryffindor after their dramatic kidnapping scene.

Who the hell knew Theo was _that_ fucking desirable? He chuckled to himself.

He reluctantly had to admit that they made a striking couple, Theo and his new beau. He wondered who would be the 'man' and the 'woman' in the relationship. Wasn't that how gay couples worked?

He made a mental note to ask Theo about it and put up a shield charm at the same time. He didn't want to risk any damage to his privates in case Theo took it as an insult. Hmm, maybe he just shouldn't ask.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see an ethereal blonde dancing with herself. He cocked his head as he wondered what the hell the woman was doing. She looked like she was floating happily in circles without a care in the world. She looked distinctly odd and he thought he might recognize her from school. Taking another gulp of his drink, he shrugged to himself.

Who really gave a flying fuck anyway?

He sighed and began running through one of the upcoming deals he was working on in his mind.

They were acquiring a warehouse full of muggle technology from a bankrupt muggle company. He'd heard a rumour that they were working on some new cutting edge technology there and he and Draco had decided they wanted their equipment and more specifically, their research.

He grabbed the experimental reading glasses in his pocket, choosing to test them out tonight to amuse himself. He fucking needed something to pull him out of this depressing stupor.

It was one of the latest developments at Malfoy Enterprises. Glasses that would cancel out any and all magical glamours. They were planning to market them towards St. Mungo's and other magical hospitals around the world to ensure that their patients weren't covering up parts of their illnesses such as rashes and other strange conditions visible to the eyes. It was an ingenious idea and they'd practically gilded their researcher in galleons when he'd succeeded with his invention.

Donning the glasses, he looked around, chuckling every now and then at the very interesting things the glasses revealed.

They showed mainly women who had used glamours but he was surprised to spot a couple of men unveiled as well. Slimming glamours were obviously the all the rage for the men and for women it was mostly about covering scars, dark rims under the eyes and in one case, a woman glamouring a large nasty rash on her back exposed by her dress.

After watching the crowd for a while, he spied a strikingly beautiful flame-haired woman wearing a floor length shimmering golden dress through the throng of dancing and laughing people. She had a rather austere expression and gave only tight smiles to her elderly dancing companion.

He almost choked on his firewhiskey.

Her hair was up and the dress covered next to nothing of her upper body, so he was treated to a complete view of her injuries as she moved around the dancefloor.

Because there were _a lot_ of injuries.

He just stared blankly at her, completely dumbfound for what was probably the very first time in his life.

Her body was _so_ battered.

Red, blue, purple, black and yellow marks were covering her back and shoulders. He could even see a couple of rather fresh human-looking bite marks on one of her shoulders and something that looked like vicious nail-scrapes down her chest.

He pulled the glasses down to check if his eyes or the glasses were failing him, using Granger as a benchmark. He knew she didn't wear glamours if she could possibly avoid them. The glasses worked perfectly. He checked another few people over and still, they _worked_.

He turned back to look at the battered beauty. Because that was what she was.

Battered, bruised and obviously very tired.

He peered more closely at her. She was hiding it well. Her glamours were very good and he wondered briefly just how many times she'd had to cast them in recent years. Only the occasional wince as she was twirled on the dancefloor gave her true pain away.

It didn't look like she was attached to anyone though. Other than the Weasleys of course, because there was absolutely no doubt in his mind who she was.

That was the youngest Weasley, Potter's ex-girlfriend Ginevra Weasley, also known as Ginny. She was hailed as a heroine and a tough fighter of the Second Wizarding War. She was a pureblood through and through and star chaser on the Holyhead Harpies quidditch team.

To him she didn't look like that, even when he removed the glasses. She just looked defeated. His interest was piqued, what on earth could possibly break a woman like that?

* * *

She excused herself from the man she was dancing with. She didn't know him well and he'd trodden on her feet during the dance more than once. She'd only accepted to dance with him because he knew her dad from the ministry.

She went out into the garden, she needed some fresh air.

She hated this part. She hated putting on the front, the façade that she wore so often. It was exhausting.

How was she able to pick those men? To pick the worst of the worst? They all gave her the perfect start to a relationship.

They wined and dined her. Took her on elaborate elegant dates and whispered soft lovely or sexy words in her ears. Then the control began. And her inevitable rebellion.

Initially she'd think they liked her feistiness but no, they just wanted to subdue her. They tried to keep her under lock and key and she didn't want that, yet she always stayed too long. She always tried to be their version of the perfect pureblood girlfriend.

It didn't work.

None of what she ever did worked.

They all promised her the world but only if she looked at it from afar, from the inside of a locked gilded cage.

She shivered and hugged herself. A memory from the day before flashed before her eyes and she winced, trying desperately to rid herself of it. That didn't work either.

She was assaulted by the memory and she clutched herself tightly, her fingernails digging into her sides from the strain.

_He was above her and he reeked of liquor and sweat._

_She was stuck underneath him, her hands tied in magical ropes above her head and it wasn't fun anymore. It wasn't sexy anymore and she just wanted to leave. She tried to buck him off with her legs but that only made him even rougher as chuckled evilly and spread her legs to force himself on her in a filthy flat in an abandoned village._

_He'd beaten her black and blue when she didn't act exactly as he'd wanted and now she screamed and cried as he bit deeply into her shoulders again and again, talking about how he was marking her as one of his many filthy conquests and that no one would ever want her now._

_She belonged to him and he could do with her as he damned well pleased._

She shook her head, trying to dispel his evil grin as he'd abused her for hours on end like his own personal ragdoll. Every single minute seemed burned into her skin and retinas and she hated it. She'd never pegged herself as someone weak but having been used and abused by so many men had her question herself.

Her experience with Marcus had been the very worst though. She'd never been raped and beaten like that before. She felt filthy and disgusting. Worth nothing.

Less than nothing.

Maybe she just wasn't brave anymore? Maybe she just wasn't a Gryffindor anymore? Maybe she needed someone strong? Someone who could save her? But the question was, save her from what? She scoffed inwardly. Probably from herself. She was the one who continually ignored all of the warning emanating signs those guys.

A glass filled with amber liquor appeared in front of her. She started when she realised that a rather large man was holding the glass out to her.

"Greetings Little Red." A dark cultivated voice left his sculpted full lips. He smiled that calculating smile that she recognized well from many of the men she'd dated.

It obviously betrayed his impeccable pureblood upbringing. Something that most of the men she'd dated had accused her of lacking. Somehow, she'd always managed to put her foot in her mouth.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Zabini."

He was still holding out the drink to her while he took a swig of his own and shrugged. "I didn't poison it, you know."

She rolled her eyes and took the glass from him, sniffing it surreptitiously. She didn't trust him as far as she could throw him and judging from his sheer size, that wouldn't be very far.

Beside her, the attractive but massive man chuckled at her antics. "I'm not dangerous. I don't bite, unless you ask me to of course."

She flinched visibly at his attempt at a joke and gave him a grimace. "I won't ask, you can bet that smug smile of yours on that."

She took a moment to take him in. He had grown since their mutual school days. He was tall, maybe six-two but he had mostly grown in pure muscle as far as she could tell.

His tailored tux clearly showed muscled thighs coming up to narrow hips. His upper body angled out, shaping his upper body into a vee that ended at his wide shoulders. His thighs were the sizes of tree trunks and she wondered how nice his arse would look. His skin was olive-toned belying his Italian heritage and his eyes were a mesmerizing hazelnut brown flecked with dark green specks. Her eyes widened at him.

"Hmm…" He seemed to ponder her words with unprecedented seriousness before a grin broke out on his face and he moved a bit closer to her. "What if I beg you to ask?" His voice and face was showing serious mischievousness.

She shrugged as lady-like as she could manage. "Don't you worry your little head about that. It won't happen."

He staggered back. "Oh!" He cried loudly and put a hand dramatically on his heart. "You wound me, my beautiful lady!" He grinned at her obviously annoyed expression. She blinked. By gods that man was handsome when he looked like that.

She shook her head. She wasn't going to do it again.

He was probably as much of a scumbag as all of the previous men she'd been with. He certainly fit the general mould of her exes: Handsome, fit, rich and Slytherin. Maybe she should try to break the mould and _not_ date another Slytherin, no matter how tempting.

His joking however, was not something she was used to.

She hadn't joked about with anyone besides her family and the few friends she had left since Harry.

All of the other men had been deadly serious about everything in life and they hadn't responded well to any of her attempts at jokes. In fact, she'd been thoroughly put down the last time she attempted anything of the sort around Marcus. Literally.

She had only dated one Gryffindor: Harry, and one Ravenclaw: Terry Boot. The list of Slytherins was long though: She'd started with Adrian Pucey.

He was a couple of years older than her and he'd cornered her after quidditch practice one day and propositioned her. It had taken a couple of tries for him but eventually she'd given in.

He was a major shareholder in the Holyhead Harpies and he lured her with promises of first team trials. It worked only because she'd really wanted her career off the ground and she and Harry had been in a rocky place.

He was her first Slytherin and she'd paid dearly for her choice. She had lost Harry as more than a boyfriend.

She'd hurt him deeply, she knew that and their friendship had been sketchy at best ever since.

In fact, most of her former friends had turned their backs on her. Only Neville, Luna and Hermione were her true friends. The ones she could tell anything and they would always be there for her but even then, she _didn't_ tell them everything.

She didn't tell them how she was usually treated in those 'dreamy' relationships when the honeymoon-stage was well and truly over about a month into the relationship. That was the way she usually described her men in the beginning to whomever asked because it always seemed that way.

Unfortunately they never stayed 'dreamy'. Her bruised body was evidence of that. Thank Merlin for her perfected glamour charms.

She scoffed. "Your dramatics are seriously overrated Zabini."

He smirked and she couldn't understand why. "My dramatics are absolutely and especially awesome, thank you very much Little Red."

She rolled her eyes at him, he really was very a dramatic man. "Why are you calling me that?"

His smirk widened into a smile that almost took her breath away. He was a gorgeous man. Much more handsome than Marcus, Adrian and even Harry. He cocked his head. "Would you rather I address you as Ginny?"

She frowned and wrinkled her nose at him. "Dear Merlin no, that would just be too weird. Why are you out here talking to me anyway? Haven't you heard enough scary stories about me from Harry?"

He came closer, close enough that she could feel his body heat cascading over her bare flesh, almost like an embrace. "I am intrigued by scary stories." His eyes had a wickedly handsome spark of something in them and it unsettled her.

She realized a moment later that it gave her hope.

She couldn't dare to hope for anything. She was now perpetually ruined for all men in the future. Marcus had seen to that. "I'm not intriguing by any means Zabini." Her voice was flat, resigned to her fate.

He started circling her, caressing her skin here and there with light touches. It made her feel precious in a way that she didn't know if she deserved. "Au contraire. I find you endlessly intriguing. How can such a strong woman, a champion quidditch player, a war heroine think so little of herself? You are an enigma Little Red and I _dearly_ love a good puzzle." His voice was a dark timbre, silky smooth and dangerous for her. She _shouldn't_ hope for anything.

She would do her best to rebuff him. To get him to leave her alone. She crossed her arms at her chest and frowned at him. "I am not your plaything to study Zabini."

That smirk was still there, playing around those kissable lips. "How about coffee perhaps?"

She rolled her eyes. "No."

"Well, in that case-" He trailed off and she both hoped that he would back off and regretted her own success at the same time. "-I will be at Caffé Concerto just across from Harrods in Knightsbridge from two to three thirty tomorrow, as I am pretty much every Sunday. Feel free to join me for a coffee and a delicious piece of cake."

She blinked. A _muggle_ coffee shop in a _muggle_ part of London? No ordinary pureblood would ever go there.

He leaned in in one fluid motion and gave her a lingering kiss on her cheek.

He whispered politely with an undercurrent she couldn't quite place, "Please join me." before he left abruptly, leaving her with her heart racing and her mind completely in tangles.


	2. Part 2

Blaise was sitting at his desk in the massive office he had fashioned for himself and he was completely distracted. After having been bored with life for months on fucking end, he seemed to have found a project. Well, not so much a project as a woman he just could _not_ seem to get out of his head. Somehow, all of those different inventions at Malfoy Enterprises just couldn't hold his attention anymore.

The ball had been three weeks earlier and he hadn't really been able to concentrate since. He'd gone to the inventor of the glasses, a brilliant researcher who always thought out of the box and really questioned how they worked. If there were flaws, if they could show bruises falsely. And no, he wasn't mistaken. The glasses worked perfectly.

Which meant that Ginevra Weasley or Ginny to her friends, had actually been bruised as if she'd been attacked by an animal. Or a mental pureblood. He had heard about her dalliances with any number of purebloods and they were all bastards of different calibres.

The latest he'd heard about was Flint. A trollish excuse for a man. Why in the world she would ever take up with him was a complete mystery. And was he the reason for the battered body? It made his blood boil that he would ever lay a hand on anyone like that.

His mind just went round and round in the same bloody circles and he had no fucking answers. Of course, she hadn't shown up at the café the day after the ball. He sort of hadn't expected her to, she had after all told him that she wasn't going to show but still, he'd hoped.

He didn't really know why he'd hoped that she would show. He had no idea what he wanted from her or to give her. He could give her strength maybe? But he wasn't sure anyone could actually give her that. Maybe he just wanted to help her find her inner strength. That could work.

Maybe.

Again with those fucking circles.

He sat back in that ergonomically correct office chair that Draco had insisted on getting for him. It was no use of course, he still had a headache. The pounding at the back of his head was there and had been for three weeks.

Why the fuck he even cared was baffling to him.

That was probably the biggest reason for his headache. He didn't have a clue as to why he just could not get the petite redhead out of his head. Every single time he closed his eyes, he saw her. Dressed like a dream and wincing slightly with almost every step, every move, every touch.

He groaned, annoyed with himself and rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes. He had other things to focus on. Work. Friends. Family. Women and some men too.

But that wasn't true, now was it?

His work was practically doing itself. He was excellent at delegating the right tasks to the right people and he kept a tight rein on his top leaders in the company. They were all brilliant at their jobs and he was free to pursue further avenues for the business to thrive. It gave him too much time to think.

And his friends were fucking useless.

Draco was whipped as fuck and loving it, Theo had finally found something worth staying monogamous for and Harry was playing the field as wildly as ever. He sent off an owl to Harry immediately asking if he wanted to join him at Omnium. They ought to go out as the only remaining bachelors of the group. Seamus and Dean would probably welcome them and their galleons with open arms at their place.

His family consisted of only him and his mother. That was all the family he had. He was an only child, despite his mother's numerous marriages. His mother wasn't exactly what could be described as warm and she needed no focus from him. She had relocated back to their luxurious Tuscany vineyard and only required him to answer to her beck and call when she was feeling maternally inclined, which was about four to five times a year.

And then there were the many women. Just a haze of beautiful women and men, because please, he had _taste_ and he'd never pass up an exquisite man. But none of them stuck. None of them made him want to see them again. He didn't make the papers the same way Theo had, he as just enjoyed himself and the women and occasional men that came though his bed.

And that just left him with a fucking frustrating headache and a beautiful redhead playing tricks on his weary mind.

Just then, an owl arrived with Harry's scrawled "Okay love, pick you up at seven" on it. He rolled his eyes.

The Boy Who Was Fucking Annoying had way too big an ego these days.

* * *

Ginny was hiding out in the garden of the Burrow.

Her mum had made her do lots of chores since she'd moved back in and she _loathed_ chores. She wasn't sure if it was because she'd been required to do much of the same by Marcus but either way, she didn't want to do it if she could help it.

Her first time back on a broom after the ball had been brutal. She was sore all over her body, inside and out and even her first, second and third trip to St. Mungos hadn't done much to alleviate the pain, despite the hard work of the healers there.

Her life was just such a mess, she wasn't even able to conjure a patronus anymore.

She just wasn't happy and those feelings and memories that once made her able to produce the spell was tainted now, they didn't seem happy anymore.

That evening she had a late night training session. Their coach wanted to make sure that the dark and the light projectors on the stadium wouldn't affect their game if a game dragged into the evening. They had to be thoroughly prepared.

She tried to focus on her training, but she was so confused about that Italian bastard.

Well, maybe he wasn't a bastard as such but she really loathed him. He had put the seed of doubt in her mind about her plan, because her plan was simple really. Marry well and live a great life.

Maybe she ought to revise that plan? She had absolutely no clue. She looked down at two of the notes Marcus had sent her since that night before the ball.

That Sunday after the ball, she had actually gone to the coffee shop under a disillusionment charm but hadn't been able to bring herself to enter.

She just stood outside watching Blaise read the muggle newspapers and checking his watch occasionally before he inevitably looked up and down the street outside. It was like a tick that came dependably every three or four minutes.

It took her a while to realize that he had probably been looking for _her_. But why would he? He knew all of the worst things about her from Harry.

She left him sitting there, apparating back to the Burrow after deciding definitely not to go inside.

Sometimes she even believed that she deserved all that she got from her boyfriends. She deserved the berating, the slaps, the punches and even the bites. She should be better. She _could_ be better and do what they asked of her.

But better for whom? For herself or someone else?

That night she trained hard, harder that she normally would have during those late sessions. She pushed herself to the brink and their team worked like clockwork. When she flew, the world came back into perspective.

When the coach blew the whistle to signal end of training, she was ready to do something more with her life. Anything really.

It felt invigorating.

So she didn't watch where she was flying.

A bludger seemed to come out of nowhere and hit her broomhandle hard. It shattered and the broom started spinning out of control and aimed directly towards the ground.

The last thing she heard before she hit the ground was the terrified screams of her teammates.

* * *

She awoke squinting with a pounding headache.

Hard florescent light was beaming down on her with no reprieve and she winced when she tried to move. Her body was sore, tired and battered. And probably dirty as well. A fall to the damp ground could do that to you.

She knew exactly where she was. At St. Mungo's. Again.

She hated it here. It illustrated things that were wrong in her mind. Issues, problems. This was where she went every time one of her boyfriends had beaten her 'because they loved her'. And she had gone back to them when they apologized and then ended up right back here again a few weeks or months later.

A healer in training entered. She had been her healer before, a few of those times after Marcus's attacks and she was sympathetic, having grown up among purebloods and having been expected to marry one of them. At least Marcus probably wouldn't have beaten her. She was a perfect pureblood when Ginny herself was so far from it.

Astoria Greengrass moved to Ginny's side with a smile. "Hello again Ginny. What in Merlin's name happened to you?"

Ginny just chuckled and then winced, it hurt her ribs to chuckle. "I fell off my broom at practice. Please fix me up."

Astoria cocked her head with a calculating smile. "I'm already working on it. But did you really come from practice? At least you're wearing your uniform this time."

Ginny nodded with a lump in her throat. Astoria was very perceptive, unfortunately. She knew that all of those bruises couldn't be from Quidditch accidents. No matter how hard Ginny had adamantly insisted on it, Astoria had seen right though her but thankfully kept her mouth shut.

Astoria then started waving her wand over her body, focusing especially on her midriff and they sat there in silence for about ten minutes.

Suddenly a rumble of running feet could be heard out in the hall, the door slammed open and two men tumbled into the room in a tangle of limbs, roars of laughter and a haze of booze.

A nurse was following them with a rather harassed expression and entirely red in the face. "Will you exit this room immediately?!"

The front man stopped abruptly when he spotted her and the other rammed right into him from behind, causing them both to fall over each other in a tumble on the floor. Astoria sat, completely calm, still waving her wand over her and watched the two inebriated men try to disentangle from each other and get up.

It took them a surprisingly long time.

Astoria turned to the nurse. "It's really no problem Mathilda, I can deal with these two delinquents." Her voice was rather stiff but her eyes were smiling at the two men, who were none other than Harry Potter and Blaise Zabini. Ginny was wondering what the hell brought them to St. Mungo's.

However, Astoria was only looking at Harry now. Ginny's intuition flickered.

By the time they were upright, they were giggling like little girls at each other and she rolled her eyes. "Are you two _boys_ fucking finished? And how the hell did you get inhere?" Her voice was playful on the surface but she couldn't stop some of that Molly-esque exasperation from creeping into her voice. That was when she noticed the gash on Harry's arm. She wanted to roll her eyes again, he'd probably fallen on something with how unsteady he was.

That sobered them immediately. Harry narrowed his eyes at her but Blaise knocked him on the shoulder unsteadily. "Relax dude. You know,-" He said, clearly thinking hard. His expression was hilarious with knitted brows and narrowed eyes. "-you two ought to make up, let bygones be bygones you know?" He was slurring the words and Ginny, to her disbelief, found herself smiling at him from her cot.

Harry shrugged. "We probably will. Someday." Which clearly meant _not yet_. Ginny was surprised by how much that stung.

Blaise then realized that Astoria was in the room. "What the fuck?! Little Snake! Come here and give us a hug." She grinned and he enveloped the petite woman in his arms. Ginny just watched on in amazement.

"Harry, this here is Astoria Greengrass. Also known as-" He paused conspiratorially. "-Little Snake!" He laughed at his own bad joke.

Harry smiled at her but then frowned in that way that only drunk people do when they're trying to figure something out. "Why Little Snake?"

"Greengrass, Slytherin, snake in the grass, get it?" He winked with a grin and nudged Harry and Ginny was forcibly reminded of her beloved twin older brothers. A sharp pang of pain shot through her and she wished they still had Fred with them.

The loss of her beloved older brother had been so difficult to overcome after the war. She had felt so lonely, despite having both Harry and the rest of her family to share her sorrows with but they didn't really understand.

George had shrunk into himself and only really started to resemble himself after he and Angelina had re-connected. But she was there too, everyone just seemed to forget about little Ginny. Out of all of her brothers, Fred and George had been the ones she'd been truly close to and with the passing of Fred, she'd lost them both.

She took a deep breath and tried to dispel the sadness from her mind as she did so often. She just wanted love in her life. Someone who loved her and not just her family. She felt so lost and lonely but she had been sure she knew how to fix it. Although it hadn't worked. All of those men hadn't fixed her at all, they'd only made it worse.

She was startled out of her reverie by the two boys starting to play-fight. Ginny merely shook her head at their exuberant antics and Astoria rolled her eyes. Ginny was surprised Astoria hadn't kicked them out yet but the other woman was watching the two men, and Harry in particular, with something akin to adoration intermingled with scheming.

Finally, Astoria stopped the two semi-drunk men-children. "Blaise, mr. Potter. Please leave this room. It was kind of you to visit Ginny but you must leave now." She waved her wand once and Harry's gash knitted right back up as if it hadn't been there. Harry looked like he was fighting sleep as her magic worked on him for just a few seconds.

At soon as he was healed, Harry went over to her and threw Ginny a hard look. "I apologize for the inconvenience." Then he looked at Astoria properly for the first time, his eyes widening. A frown appeared and he glanced up at Ginny again which made his lips set into a hard line before he just turned on his heel and left. Strange.

Ginny bit her lip, she hated that things were this bad between them. She had never meant to hurt him like that, stupidly she just hadn't been thinking about the consequences when she cheated on him. She would probably never stop beating herself up over it.

Astoria shook her head a bit and smiled somewhat dazedly while Blaise walked over to sit on the edge of the cot.

He leaned in conspiratorially. "Do you need me to hold your hand while the ruthless nurse stitches you up?"

She snorted a short laugh and he grinned. That was probably his intention though, to bring her out of her sudden mental slump. She was somewhat surprised that it worked. She shook her head. "No, but thank you for offering, Blaise."

His entire form shivered visibly and he smiled widely, like that cat who caught the canary. "My given name on your tongue makes me think of _bad_ things." Just then, Astoria moved from her to look over her chart at the table behind her and Blaise took that opportunity to lean so close to her and whispered in a dark and sinful tone. "I wanna do bad things to you."

He almost sang the line and it confused her. She didn't know if it was a joke or something and he grinned. "It's a song! My new favourite, muggle and all. They play it rather often at the café I'm at every Sunday. The first time I heard it was the day after Granger's birthday bash and it made me think of you." He winked with a smirk tugging at his lips and she mentally kicked herself.

He was too handsome, too nice, too fun and too _pureblood_. He would be just like the rest of them given time. She could even feel herself gravitating towards him because of his infectious personality. He was like a sun in her perpetual darkness but it didn't help much.

He would probably end up just as bad or maybe even worse than the others, because he seemed to promise so much more than just the wining and dining she'd had before.

He promised safety and fun, something she had long forgotten and she didn't want to get her hopes up again. She had been burned too many times.

He had been watching during her lengthy silence and he smirked. "I think I know what you're thinking Little Red and you can wonder about me all you want. But just so you know, I'm still at that café every Sunday. Feel free to swing by." He leaned in then, much too close, and kissed her cheek. It was probably supposed to be a quick peck but it wasn't.

It really wasn't.

Her heartrate spiked alarmingly and she sucked in a breath hard. His presence were affecting her in so many ways. The hairs on her arms stood up and a shiver criss-crossed her every nerve ending up and down her body over and over.

What felt like an hour was probably just a moment and he pulled back, chuckling darkly. "You know where to find me." And then he just left her sitting there, probably with a shocked expression on her earth-smudged face.

Just like that.

She was stumped. Those other men had chased her relentlessly and he didn't. He wanted _her_ to do the chasing. She snorted softly.

Hell would freeze over before _that_ ever happened.

Maybe.


	3. Part 3

Ginny spent most of her time at the Burrow. She made a lot of galleons from quidditch but she didn't have her own home and she wanted one. She just didn't really know how to go about it.

Most of her family had moved into something readily available through their family but she didn't have that luxury. Only Percy had really scoured the markets and found a flat on his own but he didn't have time to help her, unfortunately.

But he did provide her with a few pointers.

Never only look at one place. Search everything in the area you want and beyond. Look at both magical and muggle properties. Be ready for some kind of compromise on your wish list and be sure to stand firm on those things that you don't want to compromise on.

She had quite a few galleons at Gringott's, having been with men who had refused to let her pay for anything, so her payrolls and champion bonuses from the Harpies had created a nice little nest egg for her. She didn't have that much but she had enough to buy her own place.

So she started her scouring of the wizarding flats for sale, without much luck. Flats in Diagon Alley was notoriously expensive, so she reckoned she had to expand her search.

She quickly calculated how much she could afford into muggle pounds and the started scouring the muggle newspapers. But the choices were completely overwhelming. One bedroom flats with a tiny balcony, two bedroom flats with no balcony, close to traffic, far from traffic and so on and so forth.

She felt completely stumped, unable to make a choice without having seen any of them. She needed advice from the only person she knew who could navigate London without a map, a wand and street signs, Hermione.

As if she had called for her, Hermione stepped out of the floo in the Burrow less than five minutes later, followed by Draco Malfoy. She _needed_ Hermione's advice. Malfoy's, not so much.

She hugged them both though, having finally accepted that Malfoy would probably remain in Hermione's life and make little brainiac-babies together with crazy blonde curls.

Malfoy wandered into the kitchen with the flowers in his hand to find Molly while Hermione plopped down in the seat next to her. "Hey Gin. What's up?"

She pounced immediately. "I need your advice Hermione! I'm looking for a flat and its exhausting. I have no idea what I want, what I like or what I _should_ like. And now I'm considering muggle London but I haven't got at clue where to begin. Could you find it in your heart to help me, please? I'm not sure I can ask anyone else." Her expression was beseeching and Hermione smiled.

"Of course I'll help you Gin, what are friends for?" Hermione grinned and Ginny pulled the three newspapers towards her. "Gin, you do realize that these papers are five days old right? The flats in here might not even be on the market anymore."

Ginny frowned. "But… How is that even possible?"

Hermione winked, looking very much like Malfoy in one of his more wicked moods. "Well, the centre of muggle London is a highly sought-after place to live, so the affordable flats just sell fast. We have to search online instead if you want a fighting chance."

Now she was just puzzled, what the hell was she on about? "Online? What's that?"

"The internet. A spectacular muggle invention. We really should have something similar in our world." She smiled and then turned towards the kitchen. "Draco?"

Malfoy walked in with the biggest smile on his face, a cheese sandwich in his hand and her mother following him with an indulgent expression, looking at Malfoy with an almost adoring smile.

"What can I do for you my dove?" Malfoy was still grinning happily. It was interesting how his entire demeanour had changed since he and Hermione had finally gotten together.

She rolled her eyes and yet Ginny could just see him melting. It really was astonishing. "Could you help me help Ginny find a flat?"

He shrugged. "Sure, wizard or muggle? A flat in wizarding London is already warded but the choices are limited and a flat in muggle London needs warding and connection to the floo but there are more to choose from."

Ginny blinked. "Honestly? I have no idea. That's why I need help."

Malfoy smirked and sat down on the sofa opposite them. "Business it is." He seemed almost gleeful. He cracked his fingers and pulled out a large rectangle from his small trouser pocket. Ginny suspected an undetectable extension charm. He pulled out something Hermione had once tried to explain to her was a computer and began tapping the different knobs in a rather random order to Ginny.

She glanced at Hermione who had moved over to look at the screen with Malfoy. They were pointing and talking back and forth about street names and areas in muggle London. They seemed to be discussing something. She was sure she heard Malfoy say something about a lack of a proper balcony would be inexcusable. Hermione actually wacked him over the head for that and he responded by kissing her cheek. They really were very much in love.

Malfoy had promptly swooped the entirety of the Weasley clan off their feet when he and Hermione had finally started dating. Except Ginny.

Not because she didn't want to get to know him but because she had been strictly forbidden to be around him by Marcus. Marcus had always ranted about how Malfoy wasn't a true Slytherin or pureblood and how someone ought to teach him a lesson. No one ever had and Malfoy was as arrogant as ever, just a tad bit more fun and approachable.

It was unfathomable to her to see the deferential way that Draco treated Hermione. With respect, love and kindness. Deep in her heart, it had hurt so badly. That meant that not all purebloods were like Marcus.

Her train of thought caused Blaise to pop into her mind _again_.

He and Draco was best friends, along with Harry and Theo Nott. She wasn't certain what to make of it but perhaps he wasn't all that bad after all.

Maybe she should go and see him in that café of his.

She looked at the latest apology-letter from Marcus that came by owl that morning.

Yeah. Maybe.

* * *

She had been speaking to her mum, a lot. She was living at home after all and her experience with Marcus had rattled her to say the least.

Her former infallible confidence had dwindled significantly and she found herself not wanting to go to the seedy places she used to haunt during the short stints when she was single. It was always so easy to find and hook them. It had been an unmitigated victory every time she had found someone new. Someone she knew came from money and class.

She had realized that perhaps she had gone about it in the wrong way. Maybe playing the high-class pureblooded-woman actually _wasn't_ the way forward for her.

She winced at her inner monologue. She had never thought of herself as cheap, but she realized that she had been. In hindsight, everything was always clear.

She had never before considered if she was actually going about it the wrong way. But then what? Her plan had always been easy to follow. But now she wasn't so sure that she wanted that life anymore.

So, she spent her days asking her mum about her life, her happiness and what made her so content with what little she had.

It was a _revelation_.

Her mum, who had always had to scrape by, always had to buy second hand clothes or make them herself, wanted for absolutely nothing.

Every question Ginny had about the hardships of her life, was just swooped away immediately by the amount of love she had in her life. Her mum did recognize that she may be a bit of a mollycoddler but luckily, you didn't need much money to take properly care of your children when you had magic, she reasoned.

One day, out in the garden they were talking and Ginny, much to her own horror, let slip that Marcus maybe hadn't treated her all that well and that she hadn't been able to be herself. She shouldn't have said it. She just blurted it out.

Her mother stopped working and turned that piercing stare on her only daughter. "Ginny. Is there something you want to tell me? Are you okay?"

Ginny choked back the sob that was threatening to burst out of her and just nodded.

The Weasley matriarch smiled indulgently. "I don't know what has happened to you with that boy, but I can give you this piece of advice that my mother gave me. Don't let anyone tell you what you can and can't do, or what you can and can't achieve. Do what you want and be the person you want to be no matter what anyone says."

She took a deep breath, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall. "But mum, what if I don't know what person I want to be?"

"Oh Ginny!" And before she knew what was happening, her mum had swooped her into a hug so tight and full of love that Ginny just couldn't hold it in anymore and that was when the tears started.

She cried for her lost opportunities and for the horrible situations she had brought on herself.

For letting herself believe that she was of so little worth and for tying her self-worth that closely to being with a man, no matter the cost.

For not listening to her mum before and blinding herself to anything but glamour and galleons.

She cried for hours on end, as if someone had just opened the floodgates and it just wouldn't stop. Her mum tried everything, so did her dad but nothing worked.

Finally, when George came by that evening, her tears stemmed. She realized later that her mum must have called him over.

He hugged her tightly for about an hour and apologized for having been a selfish arse when she had been hurting too. They spent most of the evening talking late into the night about Fred and how they wished everything was different.

George promised to help her find a flat too and made her promise in turn to come by if she ever needed him. Her heart was healing just a little bit. She had missed her favourite brother so terribly.

He noticed some of the deep scars on her shoulders and his expression became grim. She tried to gloss it over but he wouldn't let it go. "No one will ever hurt my family again Gin." She just gulped and nodded.

They parted the next morning, having talked themselves hoarse and promised each other to be better siblings in future.

For the first time in years, she didn't care how she looked that morning. She had glamoured the worst of her scars and put her hair up in a random bun.

Her face felt swollen and tired but she felt better that she had in ages. As if her soul was lighter somehow.

A massive burden had been lifted from her shoulders and now she had her favourite brother back.

All she had to now was just to get the rest of her life back together and find a flat for herself. She looked at the list that Hermione and Malfoy had given her.

Easy.

_Right_.

* * *

For weeks and weeks, she didn't show.

He'd kept a subtle lookout during his relaxed time at the café and she just _didn't_ show.

Another two weeks later he finally gave up.

She wasn't coming. Alright. He would accept that.

_Fuck_.

So, the one woman he couldn't get out of his head had soundly rejected him.

She had even rejected getting to know him _platonically_. He sighed and took a sip of his cappuccino, scolding himself. Maybe he should have done more? Did he misread her signs of interest? He had no fucking clue, he had never been in this situation before.

A soft voice right beside him interrupted his inner spiralling. "Is this seat taken?"

He froze, his cup halfway back to its saucer and looked up. There she was, the sun behind her creating some sort of fucking halo, which made her look even more goddess-like than usual.

He forced himself to swallow the coffee and put down the cup. He blinked. "Yes, I mean no, of course not, please." He gestured to the seat a bit too quickly and the coffee cup on the table swayed ominously before it settled again on the saucer with a loud clank and only a few spilled drops.

He dropped his back against the sofa and just looked at her. He was a bit pissed that she had made him wait this long, so he didn't speak. He just waited.

And bloody well waited.

_Again_.

"I-" She swallowed and took a deep breath. "-well hi, first of all." She gave him a small smile and he couldn't stop the quirk of his own lips in answer.

He _wanted_ to be annoyed with her but he just couldn't. He gave her a quick but thorough onceover. She looked sweet, timid and fresher somehow. There were more colour in her cheeks and more life in her eyes. And much less makeup.

To him, she looked completely radiant.

He wished he had those glasses on him. He hoped she wasn't glamouring anything anymore.

He schooled his reaction though, trying not to frighten her. She was like a rainbow-mist, always exquisitely beautiful but always just on the cusp of disappearing from his reach.

* * *

He smiled. A genuine smile for once. "I'm glad you could make it. How are you?"

She shrugged, trying to hide her inner turmoil. "Fine. Better by the day actually. You?"

He winked playfully. "I'm perfect now that you're here."

She blushed, turning her head away to look at the other patrons. "Are you really here every weekend?"

It was his turn to shrug. "Yeah, I like it here."

She looked around some more. "It's nice, but less posh than I would have imagined for you."

He leaned forward, eyes alight wicked things and stage-whispered. "Wait. Are you fantasizing about me Ginevra?"

Her heart stuttered in her chest and she wanted to tell him yes. But she didn't.

Instead, she schooled her expression as much as she could and only a sharp intake of breath escaped her. His magnificent eyes darkened to a sinful chocolate brown and she just wanted to pounce on him.

And again, she didn't.

He was dangerous territory. Unknown. She didn't know what was there beneath the surface.

She scoffed instead, probably unconvincingly but she didn't care. "Don't be a bint Zabini, it doesn't suit you."

He smirked cheekily and it was wreaking havoc with her insides. But he ignored her jibe. "Could I perhaps offer you a cup of coffee? Cappuccino? Or maybe the dark chocolate. It's positively _delicious_."

She bit her lip to stop the moan that was clawing at her throat to escape. _Merlin_ , that man could talk. And he was only offering bloody coffee.

She pulled herself together. "A cappuccino please." Her words came out quite even, she was proud of herself for that.

"As the lady wishes." She shuddered at the endlessly appealing timbre of his voice.

Thankfully, she had time to collect herself as he got her the coffee at the counter. A young woman was standing there, eying both Blaise and her with some speculation. Ginny didn't like her scrutinizing.

The _girl_ fawned over Blaise as she prepared the cappuccino, giggling and sticking her arse and tits out in his direction, Ginny ground her teeth. It was irrational, she knew that. She wasn't even sure what she wanted from Blaise.

And yet, Blaise seemed completely unaffected by the _girl's_ attentions.

When Blaise returned, his smile was brilliant. "So, what's new with you?"

She took a deep breath, luxuriating in the feelings he inspired in her. "Well, I've decided to get a flat. Hermione, Malfoy and George, my brother, are going to help me."

They began a longer discussion about the place to search. Muggle or wizarding, size of the flat, must-haves and nice-to-haves and so on. She told him about the internet-thingy and to her surprise, he used it daily. She showed him the list that she'd gotten from Hermione and Malfoy and he scrutinized it closer than she was expecting.

Just like Malfoy, he immediately dismissed a few of the places that Hermione had insisted was just fine. She couldn't help the quirk of her lips.

She felt so comfortable around him, that she began to liken him to a friend in the same group as Neville, but then he would smirk, wink, touch her hand or something like that and her pulse would start to race.

No. He definitely wasn't friend-zone material.

And to top it all off, after spending the entire afternoon together, she hadn't had enough of him.

The Sunday after that, she arrived at the café on time and seeing his face light up at her entrance made her heart beat frantically in her chest. That day they spoke about their dreams for the future and she was sure she caught a furtive expression on his face when she said she wanted to have at least four children.

And so it went on and on, Sunday after Sunday.

One Sunday, he told her about his childhood, or lack thereof. That his mother had been obsessed with entertaining men until she'd caught another in the net after the previous passed away by suspicious circumstances. It had taught him to rely on only himself and no one else.

That would explain a lot.

The next Sunday, she told him about her family. About the explosions from Fred and George's room, her sorrow for her lost brother, the sheer volume of orange decor in Ron's room, how proud she was of Percy despite his waspishness, how much she looked up to Bill and how Charlie always knew the right things to say despite how far away he was in Romania. She told him about her mum and dad and how deeply in love they were despite their lack of money and their many years together and how she'd always aspired to that.

She didn't tell him about herself much. She didn't tell him about that time her entire existence seemed to turn into one massive clusterfuck and then the years after that.

The Sunday after that, he told her about life in the Slytherin dungeons during school and how he had successfully evaded scrutiny from his friends and quietly observed the chaos that was hormonal school-children around him. Only Draco and Theo had truly called him out on his aloof shite and gotten close to him. Harry had followed in his true Harry-esque style during a fucked up night out and the four of them had been like brothers ever since.

The many following Sundays seemed like a bit of a blur.

They talked about Harry a lot and she told him about them as a couple. How it was her fault what had happened between them. Blaise had a couple of surprising opinions on that topic, including that Harry had been seriously at fault as well, being the sleep-deprived man-whore that he really was at his heart. She just couldn't stop laughing at that.

She was starting to feel more like herself. She looked at flats most weekends with either Hermione or George but nothing had really caught her fancy yet.

And she was beginning to look at her mum with newfound respect. Her mum really was sort of a badass, in a homey kind of way. She knew how to fight, how to protect those she loved and she never complained about their lack of galleons despite having to put seven children through school.

She was trying not to think about Marcus but somehow he was always there in the back of her mind. He kept on sending her small notes, gifts and flowers as if he knew that she would think about him when she got them.

She didn't know what to think really.


	4. Part 4

Blaise was at this point seriously considering taking Ginny out on a proper date.

He knew that was the direction he wanted but he also knew that something was broken about her.

He hadn't brought up the night at the ball obviously, it just didn't seem like the right time. But when was ever the right time to ask someone if they had been abused.

He thought about it all week. How the fuck could he talk to her about it without scaring her off?

He wanted to know if she was okay. If she was healing. And then he wanted to romance her as opposed to her exes who had been controlling her. She hadn't told him per say, but he had heard what she had tried to hide from him.

He was wondering if she had ever actually been happy in her adult life. He wouldn't be surprised if the answer was no. He needed to find a way to talk with her about it.

He just hoped to fucking Merlin that she wouldn't push him away because of it.

But if she did, then what?

She had told him so many different things but never anything specifically about herself. He tried to listen to what she wasn't telling him but she made it fucking difficult.

Blaise was a no-bullshite type of man. He preferred to tell it like he saw it but being a Slytherin, he never said anything until he was absolutely certain.

It had taken him weeks to piece together the gorgeous Gryffindor and he was still second guessing himself about his findings. But he also couldn't hold it back anymore. If he wanted to help her, he needed to know the truth.

* * *

Ginny really liked spending time with Blaise. He was like a breath of fresh air with his wicked humour and precise observations about the world around them.

One Sunday it all seemed to change yet again, because that Sunday she had taken him along to look at a flat when George couldn't join her and he started talking about his work.

It started innocently enough and she could never have guessed the direction of his conversation. He told her about what he did, or what the company did.

They were becoming friends and she wanted more because he didn't seem like the rest of them.

In truth, he was reminding her more and more of a non-damaged version of Harry. His deep-rooted insomnia after the war had taken a serious toll on their relationship. Something she'd only really thought about after discussing it with Blaise a couple of weeks earlier.

"We experiment a lot,-" He was saying proudly. "-our scientists are the best in the country. We employ both magical and muggle scientists and have them working together. It really is astounding some of the things they can do together."

She nodded, fascinated, trying to focus on whether or not she liked the kitchen but failing miserably due to his mere proximity.

He continued. "One of them came up with an ingenious invention. Glasses that cancel any glamour cast."

She froze. He gave her a look and the pit of her stomach clenched. He _couldn't_ know.

"I tried on them the first time a Grangers birthday ball." The pit of her stomach dropped like a stone when he took a step closer to her. "Ginny, what happened to you?"

She stayed stiffly behind the small kitchen island, keeping him at an imaginary distance. She tried to be blasé about it, ignoring the beginning of a migraine. So she smiled, putting on the cheerful façade she knew and trusted well. "Whatever do you mean Blaise? I was dancing and we met when I was out on the patio."

He shook his head. "Are you really going to lie to me? I saw you clearly. You looked,-" He hesitated. "-well, for lack of a better word, you looked completely broken."

She glared at him, that was none of his bloody business. "You know what, fuck you Blaise." Her voice wasn't harsh, but she meant it with every fibre of her being. No one was _ever_ supposed to know.

He blinked, taken aback by her harsh reply. "I'm going to accept you lashing out because of this. I saw the lengths you'd gone to to hide it. But know that I want to help you."

Her voice was bitter without even trying. "I don't want your help. No one can help me." A lump was forming in her throat, threatening to spill over.

"Well, I want to help you heal yourself. Who broke you?" His voice was gentle but the edge was unmistakable. It was obvious that he was angry but not at her.

"Leave me alone Blaise." She tried to walk faster but he was keeping up easily.

"Gin, I-" She didn't even bother to correct him, he wasn't really her friend, he wasn't _her_ anything so he shouldn't call her by her nickname.

That was all he managed to get out before the lump in her throat erupted into full on sobs. "All of them, alright! Every single fucking one of them since Harry." Well, maybe he sort of was her friend after all.

* * *

Blaise was feeling dumbfounded. He knew most of the men she had been with in some capacity or other. After all, the British wizarding community wasn't that large and most of her chosen beaus had been in Slytherin. "But… why? Why the hell did you let them?!" The frustration he felt was leaking into every single one of his words.

She sighed, resigned to tell him at least some of the truth. "They treated me well. At first anyway. Then the control began and the frustrations. It was usually my fault. I didn't behave the right way. I wasn't brought up right so maybe a bit of the fault is my parents too."

He didn't believe her, it could never be her or her family's fault if those guys had truly been in love with her. He frowned, wondering just how broken she was. "How many times have you been in St. Mungo's because of one of them?"

She shrugged. "I don't know."

"Yes you do, please tell me." He softened his voice and almost compelled her to answer him.

Her rigid stand crumpled and her shoulders slumped and her voice was very small when she answered. "At least seventeen times. I've sort of lost count."

His eyes widened and she flinched at his outburst. "What the fuck Gin?!" He was shaking now. Before she could say anything, he visibly tried to calm himself, took a deep breath and said. "Were you with Flint before the ball?"

She choked, she could feel the lump there and the tears that were threatening to spill. So she didn't speak, she just nodded instead.

He rounded on her. "What did he do to you?" This time his voice was low and dangerous but he couldn't stop himself.

"I can't tell you." She almost whispered the words.

His jaw set and he huffed angrily. "Did he violate you in any way?"

She scrunched her face together, the tears flowing freely now. She obviously didn't want to tell him but hopefully she'd grown to trust him just a little bit.

This obsession of his was turning out to be more complicated than he thought.

She was hurting badly, and not physically. Physical wounds could be fixed with magic. Her wounds were mental and extensive. He knew that most of the wizards she'd been with had little to no respect for most women. The way she'd described the beginning of the relationship and then the gradual control was very familiar to him. He had seen it time and time again in the wizards in his extended social circle.

He focused his attention on her again, she took a deep breath and just nodded.

His blood pounded angrily through his veins, licking up his throat, spurring him on, egging him on, begging him to trounce every single one of the men who had ever hurt her in any way. Fucking bastards! He had known about that in the periphery of his life due to his close friendship with Harry but he had never thought it was this bad.

He gasped at the force of his wrath as it coursed through him with vindictive motivations and licked up his muscles, tensing each and every one. "What the fuck happened?!"

She was irate now, but a thought occurred to him. "Just leave it, will you?!"

He wouldn't abandon her, no matter how much she tried to push him away. "No! I fucking mean it, alright?! I actually want to help you! And there's no fucking way I'll let you push me away."

She gritted her teeth in anger, but didn't reply.

He wondered at the lack of magic surrounding her. Magic always had a way of sizzling when a witch or wizards were going through an emotional outburst, so he tried a different approach. "Wait. Why isn't your magic reacting?"

She flinched and a fleeting guilty look stole over her features. "I'm losing my magic."

Her answer seemed honest but he definitely didn't believe that. "You can't lose your magic. You can only lose your confidence in your magic."

She rounded on him. "That's a fucking lie Blaise! I can feel it leaving my body!" Her frustration was evident and he was sure he'd gotten to the real root of her problems.

A dog started barking down on the street, ripping them both out of their bubble. They both gasped and looked around. They were still in the empty flat and Ginny didn't really care much for it. She was just glaring blankly out of the kitchen window.

Blaise exhaled loudly. "Look, I have very talented employees, maybe some of them have researched this field. Don't you want some answers at least?"

She seemed to curl in on herself and he had no idea what to do. She didn't say a word.

So he waited. He just stood there like an idiot watching her every move, her every minute facial expression. He almost didn't dare take a breath.

Her expression suddenly turned defiant and angry and he was just about to calm her down. He didn't even get a word out of his mouth. And then she just disapparated.

Away from him.

* * *

Ginny apparated to a field outside the Burrow and began screaming and raging at nothing and everything. How the fuck dare he?! Such a self-righteous prick! And she couldn't even fucking blast the tree nearby to smithereens because her fucking magic was failing her.

No one was ever supposed to know and he had just shattered her façade as easily as stepping on ice on a shallow puddle.

She raved at her surroundings. Raved at the situation she was in. She tried to throw a bombarda at the tree but that didn't work either. Her magic just fizzled and died in her palm.

That was when she started to cry.

She sank down onto the grassy field and bawled her eyes out, screaming at the injustice of it all.

* * *

She hadn't realized how much she had come to cherish her time with Blaise. She had really liked the way he made her feel when she was with him but now she didn't know if she could ever speak to him again.

He now knew her innermost secret and it was absolutely mortifying.

She loathed the way he'd brought it up. He had taken her completely unawares at it had made her lash out.

But now, a week later and having it at a bit of a distance, she knew he couldn't have brought it up any other way what wouldn't have made her react with bitter anger flowing freely through her.

She sat there, in her childhood bedroom, looking at nothing.

She was back to square one.

And she was alone. She had visited Neville but he had been so hopelessly in love with Theo that she had left them and was feeling even more bitter.

Theo reminded her in many ways of Blaise and now she felt ambiguously about him.

On one hand, she missed him, missed his humour and the way he made her feel. It was unfamiliar and intriguing.

On the other hand, she felt like he had been messing with her all this time, she felt made out to be the fool. He had known all along about her injuries and he hadn't said a thing.

Her mum was calling up to her, startling her out of her reverie. "Ginny, could you come help me with the dishes?"

She trudged down the stairs, unwilling to help but knowing she didn't have an option. Her mum's questions weren't usually questions when it came to chores, no matter your age.

As they stood side by side doing labour manually that could be completed in a cinch by magic, her mum decided to interrogate her. "So, how is the flat-hunting going?"

She swallowed. "Not well, I don't know what I want."

"Have you looked at any of them?" She knew that tone. Her mum was being deceptively cheery.

Which also meant that she in no way could skirt the question. "Three, but one was seriously dingy, one was too expensive, and I actually didn't really get a good look at the last one. But I didn't like the view."

"Is there a particular reason you didn't get a good look at the flat?"

"Well, I actually had a fight with someone." She sighed, maybe it would be better to fight with Blaise than not have him in her life at all.

Her mum smiled knowingly. "Was it someone special?"

"Yeah, it sorta was. But now I don't now what to do about it. It's been a week and it seems like I'm the one who have to reach out." She wasn't sure if she wanted to do that. Maybe she would be rejected and she wasn't sure if she could handle that.

Her mum was silent for a few moments, mulling it over. "Well, it's up to you but maybe you should look at it differently?"

Ginny frowned. "Differently how?"

"I don't know what happened between the two of you but maybe you should look at it from his point of view? Because I'm assuming it's a he you're talking about."

Ginny grimaced. "It is and don't know how to fix it."

"Maybe you don't have to fix it. Maybe you just need to look at the issue with new eyes and see it in a different light?"

Ginny shrugged and changed the subject. She wasn't sure how to handle it so she buried it and focused on the mundane task of washing the dishes.

They worked in silence for a while before Molly sighed. "I'm not sure what happened to you Ginny but I have faith in you. I have faith that you will work through whatever bad experiences you have and will come out on the other side stronger than before."

Ginny gulped and wondered, not for the first time, if her mum was an actual legillimens. She chocked back the sob that threatened to escape. "Yes mum."

* * *

A couple of weeks later, she had taken her mum's advice and was trying to work through all of her negative experiences. She tried to see them in a new light but it was so difficult to work through it all.

She had spent hours outside trying to connect with her magic but it just didn't work. It was failing her like it had never failed her before.

As if her magic was under lock and key but it was strange because she was sure that she hadn't put it there.

Back in her room, she felt defeated. What if she never got her magic back? Was she turning into a squib? Was that even possible?

As her mind was going around in circles, an owl flew through her window and she tensed as soon as she recognized it, like she had every time it had arrived since _that_ night.

It was Marcus' owl again.

She took the letter with trembling hands and the owl made itself comfortable on her shoulder, almost compelling her to open the letter.

_My beautiful Ginny-baby._

_Please come see me at The Confunded Curse tonight at eight._

_I need you._

_Love, Marcus_

She was visibly shaking inside and out as she read his short note.

Could she do this? _Should_ she do this?

She knew very well that she shouldn't. She should just chuck the letter in the bin and ignore it. But she was lonely. And he'd written _please_ in his letter.

He'd never written or said please to her before. He'd always just ordered her around. This was a completely new leaf for him.

She focused on that rare word. _Please_.

Despite their distance of several months, her heart was pounding like a drum in her chest.

Maybe he was in trouble? And needed her help?

She was alone in the Burrow, wondering if she could do it. Agonizing over the decision for hours and hours.

She paced back and forth, trying to figure out what to do.

Once or twice she considered talking to Blaise about it, or George, but she chose not to. They wouldn't understand. This part wasn't something she had discussed with Blaise during their many coffee dates.

When the time drew near, her body almost started working on autopilot. Makeup, dress, jewellery, heels. She looked at herself in the mirror with a sort of distant disbelief.

She looked like someone she knew. From a long forgotten past. It was surreal but at this point, she didn't feel in control of herself anymore.

Marcus had called for her and it was her duty to be there for him. A small voice deep within her was pounding on a closed door to be heard but she ignored it.

The whoosh of the floo was the only indication of her leaving the Burrow behind.


	5. Part 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the late update but life got in the way.  
> I hope you'll enjoy the ending of the fic and please don't forget to check out my other stories.
> 
> /HBSJ

The hotel was dingy with a dank sort of odour running through the very pores of it. She wrinkled her nose. This was very much _not_ like the placed she’d usually met Marcus during their relationship. They used to be fancy places.

Looking back, that was the first indication. Hindsight was always curious that way.

The uninterested clerk at the dingy reception desk was rude and only told her where to go after five increasingly pointed questions.

Third floor, room seventeen and the dilapidation of the floors increased with every stairwell she climbed.

That was the second indication.

She walked along the corridor, down to the very last room with the number seventeen in rusty letters on it. A slight tremble had settled in her very bones but she ignored it.

She’d come this far now and she couldn’t back out. It was Marcus and he’d written _please_.

She steeled her resolve and took a deep breath. Nothing would happen. He wouldn’t hurt her. She was sure of it.

She knocked on the door and it swung open magically.

With her back straight, she entered the room only to find a very drunk and very much _not_ alone Marcus, who had summoned her wand just as the door was closed and locked behind her.

That was the third indication. She shouldn’t have come.

She forced a smile to form. “Marcus, what is this?” Her voice sounded foreign and high-pitched.

She tried not to panic. She tried to force the panic she felt bubbling up within her but it wasn’t working.

Marcus was slouched on the couch and his three mates was scattered about the room, all leering at her with disgusting expressions.

Marcus didn’t say a word but one of his ‘friends’ did. “Aye, you did good on this one Marc.”

From the couch, Marcus smirked. “She’s a feisty fuck too, you’ll have to restrain her hard you know.”

A shard of ice settled in her heart and she knew that she needed to get away from here.

Marcus stood shakily. “My Ginny.” His voice was cold and evil. “I told you that you belong to me. I will do whatever I want with you, including letting these kind gents fuck your insubordinate brains out even if you like it or not.”

She felt magical ropes winding themselves around her wrists, bringing her arms away from her body and tying her to the filthy bed in the room.

She started struggling and the men just chuckled and began to open their trousers, debating who would get to rape her first.

Marcus noticed her struggling and went over to ‘beat some sense into her’. His words. With the other douchebags fucking cheering him on.

When the first punches landed, she felt as if her body and mind separated. As if she was watching her own devastating trauma from afar.

As the scumbags went back to their discussion, her mind was grinding into overdrive with anger and resolve. How the hell dared Marcus treat her like this?!

In fact, what the actual fuck was this shite?!

How dared any of them lay even a fucking finger on her?! She was a fucking decorated war-heroine and they was nothing but nasty losers who deserved nothing more than a one-way trip to Azkaban!

The strength of her anger burned within her. A golden thread within her wound its way around her spine and heart, morphing into something else entirely.

It grew into a solid rope, ever stronger with each passing second, giving her the strength behind her resolve to get the fuck out of there!

A small magical flame burst into life inside her at the base of her ribcage, fanning out into all directions of her body, filling her up.

The discussion had finished and Marcus was now climbing on the creaking bed, wreaking of booze and sweat.

She bared her teeth at him in a lioness-like display.

She could feel the bed dip beside her face and one of the men tried to shove his unsanitary dick in her face. She narrowed her eyes. “Touch my face with that revolting appendage and you’ll fucking lose it.”

Her voice was hard, unyielding, and the fire within her had returned with full force.

No one, man, criminal or pureblood would _ever_ take advantage of her again.

The man just chuckled as Marcus struggled to free his limp dick from his pants.

Ginny ground her teeth in rage. “Fuck this fucking shite.” It was the only thing she said before a burst of gold bathed the room in light. Her hands were freed in an instant.

She punched the man beside her right in the cock and he groaned and fell to the floor with a dull thud.

She then knee’ed Marcus right in the nuts too and got up from the bed, brushing herself off with an indignant huff.

Her dress had been ripped and she knew bruises would appear on her face and upper body but she couldn’t feel it. Not now when she finally had the full force of her magic unlocked again.

It was the most exhilarating feeling in the world.

“Now, I believe that none of you deserve to ever walk in the fucking light of day, so _accio wand_.” With her wand in hand she stripped the four of them of their wands and proceeded to string them to the ceiling in their various states of undress.

They all began yelling and snarling at her but she couldn’t be bothered listening to them, so with a lazy flick of her wand she silenced them all.

She kept her voice quiet and controlled, her fury lapped at her insides, just begging her to deal with these sickening excuses for men herself. “Just to make myself perfectly clear. I will now call the aurors. All of you will be locked away in Azkaban and I promise you that I will testify at each of your hearings and make sure of it.”

Marcus made a face and she deigned to let him speak. He scoffed but he kept his voice silky. “Stop this shite babe. Just let me down and let me make it up to you.”

She smirked evilly at him. “You know Marcus, I actually think you will be in Azkaban the longest. I mean, the sheer amount of assaults you’ve made on me, including rape. Tsk tsk.” She aimed her wand at him. “You deserve whatever punishment I deem fit for you.”

She didn’t say anything else but channelled her much beloved magic in her wand and it fired off her best non-lethal hex. The bat-bogey hex. She had no intention of going to Azkaban because of those vermin.

However, due to the rage surging through her, the hex seemed to have modified itself a bit. The bats crawled out from every hole in Marcus’ body and then proceeded to attack the four of them with vicious intent and she just couldn’t help herself. She began to laugh.

And she just couldn’t stop. She laughed and laughed while her would-be attackers silently cried for help.

She used her giddy happiness to bring forth her happiest memories of her family, George especially and her friends and that pure excitement she felt around Blaise to once again conjure up her beloved patronus.

To her surprise it had changed radically from the horse she had known. It was now a hissing and spitting silky panther, who was baring her teeth and snapping viciously at the men stuck to ceiling.

She smirked and the panther turned to her with an enigmatic expression. She reached out to touch the elegant glowing creature but could only feel a slight shift in the air where the feline stood, awaiting her command.

“Go get Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy from the Auror department. I need someone I trust. Meet me in the lobby of The Confunded Curse, now.”

Her panther nodded once and disappeared from the room.

Ginny left the room and sealed the entire thing shut from inside and out, essentially turning it into a holding cell with ever-more vicious bats appearing from Marcus’ cavities to tear them to shreds.

She returned to the lobby and conjured a fresh looking wing back chair for her to sit in while she waited for them to arrive.

After only a few moments of her being alone with her thoughts, two cracks echoed in the silence to announce the arrivals of Harry and Draco.

Harry looked around the lobby and frowned at the state of her. “What the hell Gin?”

Malfoy’s reaction was different though. His eyes first widened and then narrowed within a nanosecond. “Where?” His voice was hard as flint and Ginny was forcibly reminded of how Draco Malfoy had spent most of his youth in the midst of hardened Death Eaters.

She took a deep breath. “Third floor, room seventeen.”

Malfoy nodded to Harry, who disappeared up the stairs as fast as his legs would carry him.

She tried to keep the panic attack at bay and Draco kneeled down in front of her. “Ginny, what happened? Did someone hurt you? Was it Flint?”

She blinked, determined not to cry over those bastards. “Only the bruises you can see. There were four of them. Marcus is up there.” She could see him clenching his teeth and his eyes had darkened dangerously but he didn’t say a word, so she continued. “I took care of them before they could do anything really bad.” She smirked and looked at him with flames dancing in her eyes.

He smirked right back. “Atta girl. Nice to see your fire has returned.” He winked and Ginny got a quick flash of why Hermione had fallen for this man and why he had charmed her entire family. She didn’t like him like that but she got it now.

A few minutes later a stag patronus galloped down the stairs and spoke in Harry’s voice. “Uhm, I think we need backup. A lot of backup. And some healers. At least two.”

Draco began to full-on laugh out loud, a sight she had never witnessed before. “I can’t fucking wait to see what you’ve done!”

* * *

Blaise was sulky. He was sitting in his vast living room staring out of the window and sulking.

Like a fucking fifteen year old.

He hadn’t heard a thing from Ginny in a week and he was growing restless.

It was dark, cloudy and raining outside and he felt the weather was a rather good representation of his current mood.

He lazily summoned a beer from his fridge, opening it and taking a long drag.

Tonight she had practice at the Harpies stadium. So there was a possibility that she would talk to him if he showed up there. But he wasn’t certain of her mental state. If she was pissed, sad or just didn’t really care about him.

He hoped that wasn’t the case.

But how the hell he had turned into such a fucking sap, he had no idea.

Distantly, in the sky, he could see something moving. He squinted, trying to see it clearer. A small blue shiny dot was morphing into a rather impressive dragon as it entered his flat, taking up an indecent amount of space.

It spoke in Draco’s voice. “Ginny Weasley had an incident at The Confunded Curse. She’s in St. Mungo’s. I thought you’d like to know.” The patronus disappeared.

He seriously debated it for about three seconds if he should go before rushing to his floo.

* * *

This time in the hospital, she was no meek woman trying to hide the extent of her injuries.

In fact, she was filled with her full magical power coursing freely through her every limb.

And she was fucking pissed.

She was grinding her teeth in rage, as if her emotions had been under lock and key for years, which they probably had. She felt like her patronus, hissing and spitting.

Astoria was her nurse again and she worked on her injuries silently because everyone around Ginny could feel her irate magical power surging around her like an angry tornado.

Blaise came by with a single pink peony in his hand, her favourite flower. It brought a smile on her lips and calmed her like nothing she had ever experienced. She really liked Blaise. She wanted more from him, she had missed him and getting her magic back had also made everything clearer for her. The two of them were inevitable.

She couldn’t stop herself, she gave him a grin and he came closer. She shook off Astoria’s working hands, grabbed the top of his shirt and pulled him in for a kiss.

It was their first kiss and it was just perfect.

Chaotic, delicious, soft and just… perfect. When they finally parted, she couldn’t stop the grin and he looked just like her, a bloody fool.

Behind Blaise, Harry Potter shuffled in, looking mutinous. Blaise had clearly dragged him along.

With her magic back and her confidence in her feelings for Blaise, she came to an immediate decision. This time, she wouldn’t back down. She would _beat_ him into listening properly to her apology.

She marched over to Harry. He glared at her and her response was so instinctual, like her fire had returned in full force within just a couple of hours.

She punched him right in the nose while yelling at him at the top of her lungs. “Harry Potter, you blind and deaf goddamn oaf!”

Harry clutched his face with both hands. “Ow! What the fuck Gin?! You broke my nose!”

“Oh relax, will you? Astoria can fix you in literally a moment. But right now, I need your full fucking attention.” She didn’t raise her voice but no one in the room misinterpreted the underlying threat in her words.

He just narrowed his eyes at her but nodded all the same. In the back of her mind, she was wondering what Astoria might think of the spectacle before her but honestly, she really didn’t care two shites.

“I’m sorry, alright? I’m really fucking sorry that I hurt you, that I broke us and that I didn’t even give you the curtesy of telling you about it myself. It was cowardly and unlike the person I truly am but unfortunately, that’s not the person I’ve been for the past couple of years.”

“I know we will never have the same friendship again, but I wish we could just be polite to one another. I still love you, though not like that, but you’re a great person Harry and I just… I wish you all the best in your life.”

She probably should have stopped there, but she was on a roll. “And on that note, what the fuck do you think you’re doing, fucking half the wizarding population?! I mean, you’re better than that Harry. I’m not saying you should settle down and have babies or anything, but stop being such a goddamn man-whore. I’ve done a lot of soul-searching these past couple of months and sluttying yourself around isn’t the way forward, alright?”

The confusion on Harry’s face was evident as he tried to take in everything she’d just thrown at him. He was still processing and she let him.

A few moments later, he shuffled his feet awkwardly. “I accept your apology and I agree to be polite for now. The friends part we can work on in time.”

She smiled, happy that he’d heard the most important parts of her rant.

Then he frowned and cocked his head at her with a confused expression. “Do you really think I’m a man-whore?”

Both Blaise and Ginny grinned and answered together with an emphatic, “Yes!”

* * *

It turned out to be somewhat of a spectacle.

Unbeknownst to her, Marcus had been in marriage contract negotiations with a very prominent pureblood family in France and the scandal of his loathsome behaviour ran through the two magical communities like fiendfyre, crowding the headlines in both countries for weeks.

The first articles were horrible. All from The Daily Prophet of course.

But then Ginny decided to tell her story to Luna Lovegood, editor and special reporter for the Quibbler. It had been hard on her, but Blaise had been sitting right there beside her, holding her hand and offering silent support. His proximity alone had calmed her and helped her to tell her story.

After Luna’s article came out, three more women came forward to accuse the same four men of gang-rape and abuse. One of them had even been held captive for two whole days, used as a plaything for the men as they had drowned themselves in liquor and drugs.

Ginny took a personal interest in every single one of them, knowing exactly what they had gone through.

Their stories were horrifying, chilling her to the bone. But it was also necessary that they were both told and heard to avoid it happening again.

To Ginny, having finally broken her own destructive circle, she didn’t want to dwell on all of the horrible things she had experienced.

Instead, she started a support-group for women in the magical community, focusing on helping them and herself to move forward.

At the first meeting, they were seven. At the next, they were twelve. And at the third, it had grown to a staggering twenty-two women. Ginny had just smiled at all of them and commended them for finding the courage to come.

They all had different problems but many of them had been through the same as Ginny. It served as a therapy-group and Ginny tried to work with them to find their inner strength to break the vicious mental cycle. She couldn’t really explain what had happened with her magic but she knew that Blaise had put that scientist to work on it.

So instead, she told them about her own experience and she was more than happy to inspire them.

In fact, her happiness was soaring these days.

And finally. _Finally_ , she had closed on her very own flat.

It was a gorgeous little one bedroom flat with a small balcony overlooking a little magical park in the good part of the Diagon area.

It was just absolutely perfect for her.

And so what if the floorboards were creaky. She loved it all the same. Blaise kept on moping about her need for an apartment, because he was more than happy to have her stay with him but this was something she needed.

She needed to find her own two feet away from her family, friends and even away Blaise. She needed to get to know herself and who she had become. And she had to rectify some of the mistakes she had made during the years she had dubbed ‘the darkness’.

The darkness had been seriously traumatizing for her and though she had gotten the full power of her magic back, that still couldn’t erase some of those memories. George, being the kind of brother he was, sat tirelessly with her and listened to her. He gave her a fresh view of herself because he knew all of her. The good and the bad.

And Blaise had come through with that scientist. Alphard Mitchum was a man in his forties with greying temples and a welcoming smile. He tested her over and over, asking the same questions in different varieties three times a week for five weeks and taking physical samples of her blood each time. Then he asked if he could talk to the women in her support group.

Three months after she first spoke to Alphard, he came to her therapy-group with shocking news.

Because of his sessions with most of the participants, he had begun a study into the magical core of magic beings, including humans, veela, house elves, vampires and werewolves in their human form among some of them.

He had been able to track changes in their magical cores and he could, with a renowned muggle mathematician, prove that their cores had at one point, been almost depleted of magic. Especially Ginny’s.

The main reason was, surprisingly, lack of confidence. But not in their magic, in themselves.

Ginny blinked. What the hell?

Alphard continued. “All beings have the capability to think and reason and therefore has the ability doubt to themselves. Something that most beasts do not have, with the notable exception of merpeople and centaurs. I have therefore launched a nationwide study into confidence and the impact on magic based on my knowledge from you and backed in full by Malfoy Enterprises and the Ministry of Magic. So, I want to thank you very much for your contribution and I want to invite you all to keep participating in the study.”

The buzz in the room was palpable and Ginny was feeling almost giddy from the possibilities of the study and how many beings it could possibly help.

* * *

Blaise was turning the firewhiskey in his tumbler this way and that to see the golden colours of the sun flowing through it.

It reminded him of his witch and he smiled to himself.

Theo nudged him hard. “Oh fucking great, now this one is fucking spaced out of his goddamn mind by only a sip of fucking whiskey.” He waved his hands in front of Blaise’s face. “Oi! Fuck-face! Are you in there?”

Blaise rolled his eyes and batted the hands away with his own free one. “Get out of my face you wanker.”

They were hanging out on Draco’s terrace outside of the monstrosity that he and Hermione dared to call ‘just a flat’. It was a penthouse of epic proportions and the terrace matched the flat.

Blaise was practically lying down on something called a fatboy. They each had one and he didn’t think it was an apt description of the oversized bag of beans he was currently resting on.

Harry had managed okay, fashioning himself sort of a chair out of the thing like Draco, but Blaise and Theo had given up wrestling the thing into submission and resigned themselves to basically lying on the floor.

They all laughed at him but he was too infatuated to pay properly attention to the conversation flowing around him and still, he didn’t give a shite.

Ginevra Weasley was _his_ witch. The only one who actually mattered.

She was as wild and scheming as he was and it was perfect. Sometimes they had epic clashes, which always resulted in fantastic make up sex, and sometimes they just cuddled on the couch together. Something he’d never done with anyone before but found that he quite liked with her.

He frowned at himself, he was turning into a fucking sap. But when it was over her, then who really gave a fuck anyway.

His mind wandered to his witch and a few especially magnificent memories came to mind. The first being the very first time he had ever made Ginny Weasley orgasm.

* * *

It had been in public. Well, it had begun in Omnium. With all their friends partying around them no less. He had fucking loved every second of it.

At the beginning of their relationship he had been very respectful of her boundaries, aware that she needed to recover from her excruciating ordeal but in the end she had taken him aback like the saucy minx she was.

They had been drinking and making out with her straddling his lap, his hands dutifully only on her waist or arms when she had suddenly grabbed one of his hands with the sexiest expression he had ever seen on a woman.

She had taken his hand to her mouth and proceeded to suck two of his fingers hard, giving him fuck-me-eyes all the while.

It would probably be moot to imply that it made him harder than fucking steel.

She moved his hand slowly down to her thighs as she leaned in to whisper in his ear to give him a command. “Blaise, make me come.”

He shuddered. Almost coming himself right fucking there and then.

He gave her a serious look. “Are you sure you’re ready this? In front of our friends too?”

She started nibbling on his earlobe, licking and sucking gently and that shudder went through him again. “Fuck yes.” She whispered it so quietly but it was fucking sexy as hell.

He put up a surreptitious Notice-me-not charm around them while wasting no time to pleasure his girl.

His hand snaked slowly up her thigh and the moment his knuckles grazed her knickers, her breath hitched and she clutched him tighter.

He gently eased her knickers to the side and started teasing her folds. To his pleasant surprise, she was already soaked.

She moaned quietly and the small sound blazed through him like fire. She made a slight small move with her hips, which basically placed his two fingers right at the entrance to her core.

He wasted no time and promptly plunged his fingers into her and the shudder that ran through her was delicious. There was no other word for it.

He then proceeded to pleasure his witch as thoroughly and discreetly as possible. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Draco and Granger dancing and Potter sat nursing a drink and staring at nothing, that registered as strange but he had no time for his mate’s problems. Only Ginny.

But this wouldn’t do.

He needed complete privacy and he needed her naked. With his hand still caressing her very center, he disapparated from the club directly into her bedroom and her only reaction to his bold move to giggle and snog the living daylights out of him.

“Get naked.” It was her only words when she tore her lips away from his. By all the gods, he couldn’t get enough of her.

He grinned. “Yes ma’am.”

But it seemed that she wasn’t appreciative of the pace with which he was removing his clothing because there was a slight whoosh of magic and he was naked. Just like that.

It had turned out that she was more powerful than anyone had anticipated and she was practicing her magic every day. He didn’t know if this was something she had practiced.

He looked over at her and she was smirking, the minx.

She was ready for this, more than ready judging from the fire in her eyes so he decided to take some control back.

He had let her pace their relationship because he didn’t want to rush her. He could wait until she was ready. But she was ready now.

“Ginny. Get on the bed.” His entire demeanour had changed and he could plainly see her increased lust. She scrambled onto her bed and he stalked over to her.

He spoke as he sat down on the edge of the bed. “I see no reason to prolong this much. We will have plenty of time to enjoy each other but right now, I want to feel you fall apart around me.”

He pulled at her legs and immediately buried his face in her drenched cunt.

Her shriek was drowned out by her legs around his ears but he didn’t need to hear much. He just needed to feel.

It was like heaven. She was sweet, tangy and fucking perfection and he lapped at her like a man drowning.

She was writhing and pulling at his hair, alternately begging and ordering him around and it was magnificent.

He brought her to the precipice of orgasm three times before she grabbed him by the hair, expression feral and pushed him down on the floor. He didn’t really have much of a choice and really, what was not to love about it?

She straddled him and took his straining cock deep into her. “Stop fucking teasing me Blaise.” She started moving and he was lost for words.

Her hands were on his chest and his were on her hips, helping her move and her breath was coming in pants. “Just fucking fuck me.”

He could do that.

He tightened his hands on her hips and started pounding into her from below with all of his might.

The tightening of his balls indicated his impending orgasm but he would be damned if he came before her. So he doubled his efforts to her pleasure.

Every time he pounded into her, he ground her down onto him and she started keening. He took that as a good sign.

So he kept on going and going.

She was cursing and writhing and keening and thrashing before she erupted. “Oh fuck Blaise. I’m… I’m…” and she didn’t say another word before her every movement stilled and she came. Hard.

She fought her breath and Blaise was completely mesmerized.

He was watching her in awe and at that moment he was sure that he would never tire of seeing her come.

She had just gotten her breath back and was smirking down at him. “Did you come?” To the point, as always. She might just be it for him.

He shook his head and her smirk grew into a grin. “Well, we just might have to do something about that.”

And so she did. Hours later they both fell into a deep sleep and he was fucking hooked.

His fascination of this complicated witch had turned into so much more.

* * *

He tuned back into the conversation on the terrace just in time to hear Draco give the ever-exuberant Harry his version of a proper set down about something or other that Harry had insulted. As usual. This time it was Draco’s father, as it turned out.

Blaise chuckled as Harry continued his tirade of disrespect on the entire Malfoy clan, but only the males it seemed. Blaise silently considered if Harry might have a thing for the Malfoy matriarch.

Draco when he tried to insult him right back but Harry, in his finest and most annoying mood just winked at him and said, “Oh wait! Will your father hear about this?”

Draco scowled and Blaise couldn’t stop the grin forming on his face. “Oh fuck you Potty, go suck a fucking donkey, alright?”

Harry just grinned. “Well, I sucked this one guy once who was hung like a horse, but I’m not sure if that counts.”

All of them doubled over with laughter. Blaise laughed so hard that he found it hard to breathe. Sometimes he forgot why he loved having these three men in his life.

But he remembered at this very moment.

They were all so deeply dysfunctional that they worked perfectly together and it was fucking glorious.

\- The End -


End file.
